Sick & tired
by Yanna-chu
Summary: During the apocalypse there are things that stay the same as before, but hell there is a lot more that gets fucked over completely in its wake... Daryl/Glenn, M/M, rated M for sexual things
1. Chapter 1

Sick and tired

Chapter 1

I have been in the forest for a few days now, roaming around the area like some kind of stray pet although I knew my location at all times. Outside hunting like this is still nice even if the world just about ended a few months ago, I decided after the first time I agreed to go out and kill something eatable.

The solitude of the situation does me good. It may come as a surprise to some people, but I have never been much of a social person and being practical caged up with so many individuals in camp makes me kind of claustrophobic.

Whenever I'm out here, (which was mostly on my own anyways since Merle had always been a lazy asshole and even this whole thing didn't change him) I remember the time a few years before this apocalypse, back when my momma was still alive.

Even when I was younger, I would take off into the local woods whenever I had a particular bad fight with my pop and stay there for several days, but at some point I would always return home. My back would be aching from sleeping on the hard ground; my throat would be dry from a long walk home.

My mom was usually waiting on the porch back then, just staring me down and then she would start getting really mad; telling me how scared she had been because I had left without a word, but it was nothing new so I never really apologized for it.

Even being mad she would drag me to the kitchen and sit my silent sorry ass down by the kitchen table to start cooking something up for her 'little boy'. She always accused me of not eating enough whenever I was out on my own.

I knew I made her worry a lot and I was guilty about that for sure, but I always had in mind that I could be worse of a son.

Merle was the best example for that; stealing and borrowing money wherever he went. If his hands weren't tied up in some dirty business, it was probably because he had his dick shoved up an equally as dirty whore at the moment.

Whatever other people and my family thought, I got by on my own just fine; back then as well as now.

It's a nice day. The sun is out and burning down. The leave crowns of the tall trees protect the rest of the wild life gathered beneath them and give me some relief from the Georgian heat as well.

This time I hadn't been as lucky as I had been on previous hunts, but the several squirrels and two bunnies dangling from the string I carried over my shoulder don't say it wasn't worth it either.

I step out of the cover of the thinning tree line and I have to admit that I'm fairly proud over my catch. Hunting and surviving are the only things I'm talented at, so who would have thought that I could actually literally make a living out of that?

My skills made me a crucial part of the group and I know that they would have a tough time trying to get by without me around.

I scanned around the area quickly. Most of the women and Merle are somewhere around the fireplaces. While the girls are doing the laundry, my brother is just sitting there carving something out of a piece of wood. The children are sitting in a circle on top of a blanket, drawing, chatting and laughing happily together. The males and the blonde siblings are gathered up on the outskirt of camp apparently having a serious talk by the looks of it.

Something is up, I decide quickly as the tense atmosphere seems to cloud the whole place. I adjust the crossbow on my shoulder and walk over to the fire, dropping of my hunt while I'm at it.

"Welcome back, darling." He greets me in that sarcastic voice that makes me want to turn around and leave for the woods again right away. "Nothing bigger? You sure are disgracing." Oh, how I would love to whip that shit-eating grin right off of his ugly mug, but I'm holding back.

"Daryl…" Carol looked up at me with wide owlish eyes and Lori swings right around to give me one of those knowing looks that piss me off since I don't know what exactly is going down around here.

Wanting to figure out quickly, I leave the cadavers with Merle to skin and gut which he will probably not to anyways and head over to the group. They are short one Asian though. I haven't seen him at all yet, but I'm pretty certain he should be back from his errant run already.

"I don't want to burst the bubble, but I've seen this kind of fever before…" The old man starts off while fiddling with the rim of his head. "It's the kind that kills..." He looks guilty for saying it.

"Not soon after he will be up again." The other cop finishes for Dale with a sneer, his hand coming to a stop at his holster. Rick puts him on ease again though.

"It's not pretty." The male Moralles throws in uselessly. When it comes down to it, he may as well just shut up since he is not helping the whole situation at all. Not pretty? What was these days anyways.

My big brother comes to a stop next to me to listen in on the conversation as well. I just try to figure out what the fuck is going on, but I'm not too stupid to put the talk about the illness and the absence of a certain chink together.

"But he wasn't bitten or scratched, was he?" Amy huddles closer to her big sister in an attempt to find protection from a threat that wasn't even confirmed yet and it gets everyone more nervous than before. Somehow I can't shake the feeling that this is going into a false direction and I can't help getting a little anxious myself.

Ed gets up from the log he was sitting on just a moment ago. Big mouth, but nothing to back it up, that's the guy for you. He keeps smoking calmly, nicotine slowly staining and damaging his lungs even at this very moment.

I'm not as stupid as the group often makes me out to be. The only thing he is actually capable of is beating his own wife, scare the hell out of his young daughter and sit around smoking all day. He's by no means an important addition to the group and no one makes a secret out of it.

His aggressions have been getting worse lately, so it's probably only a question of how long the fellas around here will stop taking his shit and start fighting back, especially the women.

"I say shoot him in the head and safe up on the meds."

Distinctly I can hear the sound of a sleeping bag rustling in the tent next to me. Why don't they think about the missing solid walls around here? The boy could hear every single word they are saying. Right know he could be terrified out of his wits for all I know.

"Back when this all started, I met a man with a little boy- the one that still has the walkie-talkie connected to mine. His wife died like that." Officer Friendly is seizing everyone up with his eyes, trying to decide what to do. The choice is with him. It's either life or dead for the Asian boy.

That's right. A simple Asian boy that's all Glenn is to me, but am I really okay for just killing him off for being sick?

The night just a few days ago is still very much present in my memories; the way his dark brown eyes had been locked with mine. We had fucked. It was nothing more than blowing off some steam and getting rid of all the sexual tension, but the way he had looked at me had made my breath catch in my throat just a second before I got back to my senses.

The Asian had just laid there, covered in body fluids; his as well as mine. His dark hair a mess and his breath coming out in hurried, but slowly calming puffs. Back then I thought how good he looked ruined and told him to get the fuck out right after that.

"She came back as a Walker after that." I can't really catch the meaning behind the words coming out of his mouth immediately. "I don't want to endanger everyone, my family…"

So this was it? They are going to kill him after all he did for them in the past? The Asian had put his life on the line several times; all to ensure that these people were good and now they want to slaughter him for having something as simple as a fever that might be fatal at best?

Fuck that.

The rapid beating of my own heart is scaring me shitless. There aren't many things that make it pound like that and what gets me even more terrified is the sudden perception that I must have a severe soft spot for the Asian. A weakness like that left you dead and broken, back in the days as well as now.

Shane moves towards the place the boy is resting and it rattles me out of my thoughts. I stop him rather quickly by stepping right in front him.

"You get away from that tent." I growl at him dangerously low while taking an aggressive stance.

"Or what?" That fucker is challenging me.

"Or you're getting a fucking arrow right between ya eyes." My fingers twitch to unclasp the crossbow from its strap as I spit the threat at him just as his moves for his handgun.

"Calm down." Grimes tries to negotiate, but how I'm supposed to do that is beyond my reasoning. Shane is standing there with that obvious dark look on his face, ready to spill blood at any moment.

"I said get that FUCK away from this tent!" My yell is loud and echoing through the following silence and I aim the loaded crossbow at the man. Before I actually have to take the shot, Rick pulls him back.

"So who is gonna be the one to blame if he comes out of that tent ready to kill every single one of us?"

My bow resting against my shoulder is a comforting weight.

The thick silence is shattered by the almost obnoxious noise of the zipper. The chinaman groans loudly as he fights to crawl out of the narrowly opened entrance, but not due a maddening illness but rather because of aching muscles and cracking bones. It doesn't stop Shane from aiming at him though.

The dark tuff of hair is sweaty and sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. His skin is pale and reddened around the eyes whether from exhaustion, fever or maybe even from a rare act of crying, I can't be sure.

What I can tell easily though is the fact that the little guy looks like shit.

Those eyes…They are alive. They prove everything anyone said wrong instantly as soon as they take a good look around him, flinching back a little when he is face to face with the barrel of the ex-cop's gun.

"I won't die." The voice sounds fragile, very quiet and strained. "And if I…if it gets too bad, I will put an end to it myself." Most of them are just gawking at him openly.

"Ya sure 'bout that, chink?" Merle pipes in for the first time. "Doesn't look like you can even stand straight on ya own legs, ya fag. Ya really wanna tell me you can even get that damned bullet through your skull?"

Glenn doesn't answer for quite some while and I think he is trying to think about the right way to response without pissing off my brother more than he already is.

"If it comes to the point that he can't do it anymore, I'll take care of it." The puzzled and questioning glances I get for that are surely worth it.

"And why would ya do that, little brother?" His tone is dangerous low. It's the well known calm before the storm.

"'Cause it's the right thing to do." My eyes lock with his dead on and the tension building around us in tangible to say the least.

"Like hell, you little fucker! You've been shagging it up with the lil' inbred!" I drop my weapon to the ground before I fling myself at him. It's not like I have much of choice since I know that he would get the first hit if I didn't.

My fist gets him square in the chin, but before I can strike again he lifts his own weight and throws himself on top of me, immobilizing my legs by putting his entire weight on top of them.

It turns into a full out brawl from there on. Fists fly, legs and feet connect as soon as I can free mine and even teeth come into the whole thing until T-Dog, Moralles, Shane and Rick decide to break it up.

"This ain't over, ya fag!" Merle wheezes and spits a thin spray of blood that seeps from his split lip.

"Fuck you!" I growl back, struggle free from the hold T-Dog has on me and let myself be walked away from all those prying sets of eyes and into the tent next to us.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Oh ya gotta be fucking kidding me, Chinaman!" My voice comes out as a low whisper rather than a yell, since I don't want to draw any attention to us. We just got under canvas a few minutes ago, but it wasn't hard to spot the way he winced while sitting down. He went in before me so I had noticed the dark stain on the back of his rather clean shirt pretty quickly as well and put two and two together. The look on his face when I told him to strip had been priceless.

The Asian doesn't answer at all and just keeps staring at the ground between us; right into the bowl of lukewarm water that Carol brought for me to clean up my fresh wounds with.

"Hiding an injury? Seriously…" I scoff and scowl him further and he actually has the nerve to look embarrassed. Fucking kid.

"I'm sorry…" His hands rest on his bend knees, his vision is still centered on the floor.

"It's not even a bite or a scratch…" Would it really kill him to try and make me understand why he fucking did it to begin with? Apparently it does since he is not doing jackshit to clear it up.

"Sorry…" His voice sounds raw, but I haven't heard him coughing or anything so I figure I should probably get him a flask of water soon.

"Sorry doesn't cut it..." My voice is gruff, but that's alright if one takes the situation into account. "…and it doesn't get ya better either."

His dark-brown eyes seem to glow in the soft light filtering through the thin fabric. His shirtless chest is coming to short-timed stop before starting off again, his fingers twitching at his knees and I can tell by the way his eyebrows are creasing that is thinking hard about what he should reply.

"Sorry…"

"Will ya stop fucking apologizing already!" The kid never ceases to piss me off, but that's just another fact that tells me that I let him close to me way too much. I don't wait for him and just throw him onto his stomach forcefully.

There it is, the wound that started this whole shit storm. It's a deep gash which reaches almost horizontal from one side of his back to the other.

Doesn't look pretty since it is oozing and angry red around the edges. I start to prob at it and hear him whimper under my ministration. The wound is infected and that has caused him a fever which almost got him shot. For a second I think about pressing down on the lesion just to teach him some sort of fucked up lesson, but I don't.

I stand up and exit. The questioning sound that is escaping his throat carries after me. My feet stomp angrily through the camp until I reach the RV. It's like a goddamned furnace in here, but I ignore it in favor to search for the stuff I'm sure to have seen around here just a few days before.

"What are you doing in here?" Dale is asking from the still opened side-door, reservation clearly even though he tries to cover it up.

"Searchin' for some medical shit…" I pull out another cupboard and starts scanning through it.

"Like what?"

"Antibiotics and alcohol" I'm really not in the mood to play ask-and-tell with Mr. Hat in his van, so I try to cut off any further conversation. "Lay off my case, old man."

"Alright." Dale pushes past me and begins to rummage through a box hidden under one of the seats. "Is Glenn alright?"

"Sure. Except he still thinks that everyone around wants to put him down like a rapid dog." He winces, but he deserves it since he didn't raise his voice either. Throwing around random assumptions in a moment like that and getting someone else in trouble with it, deserves all the punishment it got.

"Now hold on, no one wants to-" The old geezer stops what he's doing and turns to look at me over his shoulder, all appalled and shit.

"Tell that to Mr. Trigger-happy." The cuts on my face begin to sting slightly since I'm slowly coming down from the previous adrenaline rush. Warily I take a gaze around camp from the small dirtied window. It gets him to shut up and go back to the task at hand.

"You did the right thing back there." The bottle of cheap vodka and the little box are handed over to me.

"Yeah, can't say that back to ya." With that I leave the RV in favor to get back to the Asian idiot and I don't get to hear any reply at all.

When I enter, he is just lying on his side all curled up on himself. He startles however when he hears the rustling of plastic.

"You are back." Now I just to punch him for being all surprised, injured or maybe even dying or not.

"Well someone has to clean up your sorry ass." The pills end up next to the basin and I unscrew the cap of the alcohol. I offer it to him and he gets it without me having to explain it. After taking a gulp and wincing like a pussy because of the strong taste, he lies back down. "Here, bite down on it." I hand him the cloth and he takes it gratefully. The kid is rather relaxed until I start to pour alcohol over the wound.

He is hiding himself away in the rolled up sleeping bag under his head, only the muffles gasps and moans of pain giving him away. It feels horrible to see the Asian hurt like this and if I've anything to do with it, I will not let it happen again.

After cleaning up through fully, I test the edges to see if there is any stitching needed. Thankfully it is not. "Get up on your knees." I slap him on the small of his back softly while saying it and he does as I tell him to.

The white gauze sure doesn't fit his tanned skin and why the hell is that thought even crossing my mind to begin with? Holy shit, this kid is completely fucking around with my head, that's for sure. My hands stroke over his back in soothing circles. "It's over." I lean over him and whisper hoarsely into his ear and Glenn just drops his weight to the ground again.

For an instant I think about just flopping down right next to him and maybe cuddling up to him, but that's a pansy thing to do, so I don't. I'm surprised when he suddenly sits up and goes for the basin filled with water. He grips hold of the wash cloth, wrings it and gazes up at me expectantly, slowly lifting his hand to my face.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" It doesn't come out as angry as I would like it to, but I guess that's alright since the Asian pulls away again anyways.

"I'm just returning the favor." His determined eyes lock with mine in whole out staring contest and since no one breaks it, he seems to think that he has the permission to do as he wants to. As long as he doesn't fuck up on it, I'm just peachy with it.

He taps the piece of fabric over the cut above my eye and swats gently until the already crusting blood comes off. By the feel of it, I'm probably getting a nice blue one which wouldn't really surprise me with the sucker of a punch my brother throws. Due to the slow burning I close my eyes and draw my mouth into a thin line.

The kid doesn't stop with just cleaning up the wound though. He starts sweeping it over my shut eyes and begins to get off all of the dirt that must cake against my skin. The touches move from my face down to my neck and my arms, until he stops.

I don't feel like opening my eyes at all. It's had been quite a while since I last got this kind of gentle attention, but they snap open anyways when I feel dry lips pushing against mine in a chaste kiss.

"There, all better." That little fucker…

About half an hour ago I had been out by the fire, fetching two bowls of stew from the campfire. Carol had strolled up to me then, all big doe-eyed and trembling, asking if Glenn was doing alright.

What the hell. If people wanted to know that badly, why don't they just fucking drop by the Asian? It's like five yards away, so I can't think of any reasoning that would give me some kind of valid answer to that. I just growl a soft _fine_ into her general direction and leave again.

The bowls sit next to the basin that is still filled with light pinkish water, the vodka and the antibiotics now. I made him pop one of those right after he finished up with eating.

Outside it has gotten dark so I had brought back a small petrol lamp with me as well, the light illuminated his sweaty skin and gave the whole place an overall eerie feeling, but you will see hell freeze before you see me actually carring.

I'm not sure whether his fever is dropping or increasing since the heat in the small tent is smothering even with the entrance being opened up and a small breeze sweeping through it to begin with. Can't bring myself to leave it though. Somehow I wish someone in camp had a thermometer at hand, but of course lady luck wouldn't have something like that in fucking store for me.

It feels almost like a gamble; lying this close to someone that might become a Walker at any given time that is, but I'm not fucking scared or anything.

We talked for a long time. He had talked about his past, his job, his long lost family and friends; all that sentimental crap someone would want to tell you before he dies and it pisses me off. I didn't want to hear any of it, but I listened anyways, carefully and intently at that until his eyes had begun to flutter shut slowly.

The hand enclosed in mine is clammy with sweat, but I don't really mind. Being a man of nature myself this kind of fluid is the last of my worries. His face looks peaceful except for the occasionally twitch of an eyebrow or the corner of his mouth every once in a while.

His chest is rising and falling with labored breathing. He is still alive I tell myself over and over again.

Sweat is running down his nose and dripping from its tip and whimpers pathetically under his breath.

For the first time since forever I'm afraid to fall asleep or rather the waking that comes as an aftermath.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Shut the hell up." I grumble moodily under my breath as the loud chirping from some half-nocturnal, early bird catches in my ears. The morning sun is softly filtering through the tent and I can hear pans clanking together noisily outside by the fireplace. Someone is up and talking quietly over there, the whispers carrying through the place.

Suddenly I freeze. While I was asleep last night, I have turned over once and my wide eyes are still glued to the wall in front of me. That's all I could hear. The soft breathing that should be right next to me isn't audible, so I spin around quickly just to find the sleeping bag next to me unoccupied.

I stumble out of the tent cursing like a sailor and almost falling flat on my face as my left foot catches on one of the strings that are holding the whole thing in place.

There are two things I notice immediately as I stand out there. First is the kid just sitting all chatting and laughing with Andrea around the fire looking over to me with big concerned eyes. Second is I forgot to zip up my trousers in the heat of the moment and they are about half the way down to my knees by now. I must look fucking hilarious since they both would probably burst out laughing, but instead they just giggle under their breath to not make any racket. The Asian might as well let the blonde chick braid his hair at this point.

I pull my pants up, doing it with as much dignity as I still have left and stalk over to the pair. "You little shit." The growl is way under my breath, a little shaky maybe, but still threatening none the less. "What do ya think you are doin' out here?"

"I couldn't sleep anymore." He answers and that is probably all I'll get, so I settle an angry glare on him. "Um…I'm sorry?"

"Oh you better be!" I hiss heatedly right into his ear and if my sight ain't gone bad yet, he is shaking like a leaf. "Get ya ass back to bed." In another situation it would have come out as suggestion, but this time it's a clear command and he gets it. Glenn stands up and walks over to the tent, me right behind him.

Andrea gives us some kind of funny face the whole time.

I zip the entrance after I get in after him.

If this is the only price I have to pay for letting him so close to me, it would be alright. I get closer to him until we almost breathe the same air. His deer-brown eyes gaze up to mine and they seem to be gleaming in the low light.

"Don't do that ever again, chink." His shoulder tense up at the nickname. For a moment I think he is angry, because of the redness of his cheeks, but then I notice once more that he's gulping in air like someone who was close to drowning a minute ago. Maybe he's just nervous or maybe…

My hand finds his forehead and his eyes flutter shut with a relieved sigh passing from his lips almost like an afterthought. The kid is practically burning up. His skin is flushed and his shirt is so wet from sweat that I hadn't noticed it in the beginning.

"You gonna be the fucking death of me…" I whisper and touch our foreheads together. Yeah, like I thought, he's going crazy with fever. I make a move to get up and fetch him some water, but he grabs my arm to stop me.

"Where are you going?" He croaks with his cracking voice and puts on a face like someone just killed his puppy. I half-kneel, half-stand and don't know what I'm supposed to do now since I have no real pool of experience with sick people. Expect for Merle, but his case is different since he's just plainly sick in the head due to his heavy drug overuse.

"What? Getting all attached to me now?" Okay, it sounded like some kind of messed up insult even to myself, but he doesn't seem to mind all that much since the hand on my elbow slips down to my hand to take hold of mine. I think about pulling away till the kid speaks up again.

"Possibly…" He whispers back and we both still as his words sink in.

The clanking of the pans and the birds outside seems louder than before. It always sounds like a commotion is going on out there by the sound of voices sounding on top of each other. I can hear Merle's voice clear as day. He is arguing about something like always.

"I don't think you wanna go there, kid." I distance from him further and pick at a dirty spot on the bottom of my sleeping bag. The earth is clinging to it and I think about actually washing it, but then it would have to dry out again and that in return would me one night without a sleeping bag.

What the fuck am I even thinking about!?

"You fought your own brother for me…That's gotta count for something, right?"

It feels like static coursing through me as he says it. The Asian didn't sound too full of himself most of the time even when he brought back massive amounts of supplies that made everyone gasp and gape or when he had one of those brilliant ideas of his, but this doesn't come close to unsure or guarded.

The way his eyes widen lets me guess that he didn't want to let it slip quite with such ease, but I sooth him by just throwing him to the ground less violent than I would have if I were angry or he simply healthy.

The pressure on his lips gets him gasping right as I touch him. His hands catch in the fabric of my shirt and he spreads his legs to make space for me as if we actually had some kind of practiced ease going on.

We break apart and breathe the same air since we are practically glued together. Glenn's face is flushed, but I can't really be certain why. Our eyes lock once more and without having to say anything we understand that we have mutual needs to take care of.

We kiss again and it gets intense, all teeth and sucking and biting. He is arching up to me desperately trying to get his ever heating body to cool down, but tough luck there, short round.

We ground together and the friction of denim against denim seems to kill him since he moans out loudly. I shut him up with my tongue once again and pull his shirt over his head while he goes for mine at the same moment.

It really feels like we have done this a million times, but to be truthful it really was a onetime thing a few days ago. There hadn't been longing glances or lasting touches up to then. Hell, we talked only a handful of times before he just appeared in my tent all flushed and with hooded eyed.

But that hadn't stopped me from doing what I'm doing now, mind you. My body pressing down on top of his, pinning and covering him up like a human blanket. He lies beneath me as if that's the best place he has ever been and shit that thought sure got me going.

I was nothing like my brother or father after all; not the stereotypical homophobic redneck. The contrast to the male side of my family is as clear as day since yeah, I'm about to fuck a chink right through the floor of the tent any moment now and nothing short of a walker attack would stop me from doing it.

"Daryl, you are killing me." The kid gasps out and buries his face in the side of my neck, trying to stifle all the little noises pouring out of him like water out of a damned fountain. He may be delirious or dehydrated, but I'll think about that when I've finished up with the matter at hand.

I worm my well-worn fingers down to his jeans, going directly to his zipper. The noise is startling loud if not even appalling, but I choose to ignore it. He moans out loudly when I grip hold of him for the first time. So loud in fact, I have to cover his mouth with my free hand.

I neglect myself for some time, only paying attention to him and the whimpering noises, the hot breath against my palm. However, my patience is practically torn to pieces when his tongue begins to lap at the fleshy part of my hand like he's some kind of starved sex-kitten.

Suddenly he grips hold of my belt and tucks it loose. The button is opened and the zipper unzipped and without missing another beat Glenn begins to pleasure me. I feel the tremble in his fingers even through his put up front of confidence.

I take hold of his hands, pinning them above his head. He looks startled until I begin to stroke the both of us with a steady rhythm. The inside of the tent grows hotter by the minute and I can feel relief approaching.

In favor to be able to lean onto my arm and over on top of the chink, I release his hands. The rhythm and breaths shared between us quickens. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him. I can feel the tips of his fingers dig into my upper arms and the pain turns me on even further.

"Daryl…" He gasps out almost silently. His dark eyes are finally looking alert again, looking alive and without having to think about it further, I lean down and press my lips into his waiting ones.

The kid is a biter and I'll be damned to hell, I don't care about the fact that he could be infected or that there may be traces of what we did left on me. The only think I care about is his groaning while I grasp our dicks together in a firm and simply move.

The sound of my name is what sets me off finally.

After that the black-haired guy lies next to me, completely spend. His face is pressed into the plane of flesh between my neck and shoulder and he is curled up into me like some sort of cat. One of my hands is resting on the small of his back while the other arm is locked underneath my head.

I really mind don't staying like this forever, but if someone ever suggested that we were cuddling, I would get up just to hunt them down.

His fever finally broke a few hours later.


End file.
